Between Kisses
by KateToast
Summary: She likes to talk. A lot. Especially between kisses. It's just one of the little details he's learning about her. Fluffy LQ.


A/N: Takes place sometime after _Vince is Back_.

XXX

She likes to talk. A lot. As in, all the time.

But most especially between kisses.

It's something he's slowly getting used to, one of the millions of tiny details about her he's never known before, and cannot believe he has lived without for the four years they've been friends. How unnatural that past life seems now, before secret smiles across the table and stolen kisses at lunch.

Was he even really living before? He isn't sure.

These are some things he's learning:

She has gorgeous eyes, something he hadn't noticed until he'd really taken the time to see how they glow when she smiles, really smiles, just for him. He thinks it's a crime that she hides those beautiful eyes behind glasses, but at the same time, he likes to think that he's the only one who really gets to see what's beneath them.

Her hair is soft and smooth and long, and sometimes during class he daydreams about the last time he had the chance to run his fingers through it. He's never paid particular attention to girls' hair before; what girl could have better hair than him? But hers is something different. It always smells good, like the best day at the beach he can imagine, and he thinks she's maybe used that genius brain of hers to develop her own special kind of shampoo, because he's never smelled anything like it before.

That's another thing: her brilliance extends far beyond anyone or anything he's ever encountered before. He thinks that someday, she's going to find a cure for cancer _and_ create the best candy ever, at the same time. Sometimes her smarts stun him so much he can't even speak; being with her makes him realize how dumb he can be. She claims that he isn't dumb, just not driven; every time he's with her he feels like his IQ has risen a few points. How has he never appreciated how smart she is before?

He'd never truly considered himself a "sweet" and "lovable" guy before, but she's changed that, too. Her heart is so big, and full, and she's ready to give it at any moment; she's always looking out for her friends. He can't believe how easy it is to open up to her, how easy it is to let her steal his heart; she does so effortlessly, and he lets her. Being with her has an effect on him, something that now translates into his interactions with others. He's never felt this way before, so free, so happy.

And then there's the talking.

He wonders if she's as chatty when she's with other people as she is with him. Before getting together, he hardly spoke one kind word to her a day, let alone had lengthy conversations about everything and anything. But it's so simple with her, to tell her his life and his hopes and his fears and not worry about being judged or rejected. She talks on and on, a mile a minute, and he doesn't care; he loves the sound of her voice, he loves how intense she can become about a topic.

At first, the talking ceased completely when the kissing commenced. Then, as days progressed, she'd break them up with words in between, telling him a story or a thought. After a couple of weeks, he never knew when she would pull her lips away from his to interrupt with a sudden matter, her eyes bright and her hair tousled, her lip gloss smudged but her smile wide.

He thought this would bother him. He's always been all about less talk, more action, hasn't he?

Apparently not.

As much as he enjoys the kissing, (and he _does_ enjoy the kissing), he thinks he enjoys hearing her ramblings in between kisses just as much.

"We can't keep meeting like this," she says jokingly after he's grabbed her as she walks by, pulling her behind the science building and pinning her against the wall. He's kissing her neck and her glasses are askew.

"I _like_ meeting like this," he says, making his way back up her neck to find her mouth.

They stay like that for a while, hidden by the building and the palm trees.

His tongue is skirting her lower lip and her hands are tangled in his hair, but suddenly she pulls away from him, panting a little, and he waits eagerly for what she has to say. It's always something new and interesting.

Unlike normal when she just comes out with it, this time she just stares at his face for a minute, a smile on her lips. He knows he's good-looking, but this is getting ridiculous.

"What?" he asks, puzzled.

"I'm falling for you," she tells him, as confident in her speech as always.

He suddenly wonders if he's ever heard a girl tell him she loves him. He can't recall even hearing a girl ever tell him she was falling for him.

"Is that so," he replies, grinning. He takes a hand off of her waist and adjusts her glasses, then tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. He keeps grinning in a self-satisfied sort of way.

She's a bit more timid now, but tries to hide it with a defiant expression. For a moment he feels like it's the girl he used to know, the one he fought with every other second, the one he hardly knew anything about. "Do you have a problem with that?"

He takes his time responding. He loves to make her squirm. "I'd only have a problem with it if I didn't feel the same way."

She smirks. "What's this? Logan Reese, showing a tender side?"

"You're the only one who gets to see my tender side," he reminds her, with a small leer following. She swats at his chest and rolls her eyes in a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you sort of manner.

He catches her off-guard in a kiss, and this time he's the one to break it to say something. He feels his heart hammering against his ribs. "I'm falling for you too, Quinn."

She likes that line so much that she presses her lips against his, hard and passionate, and he thinks she may have bit his lip and he is totally okay with that. He's really getting into it when she breaks the kiss again.

"You know, we really should tell everyone eventually." She's raised an eyebrow in a challenging way, waiting for his response.

"Eventually," he finally says. He doesn't want to share this with anyone yet, not with their best friends, and certainly not with DelFigello. He wants to keep just this one, precious thing between the two of them for as long as possible.

"Maybe we can-"

"Quinn, shut up and let me kiss you," he interjects sharply.

She lets him, gladly.

He does like her talk in between kisses, but sometimes, he likes the silence more.

XXX

_End._


End file.
